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It’s a Trap

August 16, 2026 //
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Like, subscribe, comment… it’s a trap. The “hype cycle”, the outrage machinery, the click farming, and trying to get “engagement” from the bored and uninterested; it’s all part of monetizing our attention as consumers (of content). Pretty gross.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

Add to all of that the pestilence of AI slop and enshittification and what have we got? Incentive to put down the device, step away from the screen and go outside.

On the trail at first light.

It’s a gray morning, overcast and cloudy. Looks like rain, but it doesn’t feel like rain. The forecast has no rain in it today. I set off down the trail as soon as I have enough light. (My replacement headlamp should arrive today or tomorrow.) I don’t mind the few quiet minutes waiting for daybreak. I spend the time, this morning, thinking about… Ozempic. 😆

I started on Ozempic in April, 2024, more than two years ago. I’ve lost some weight, sure, but I take it for my diabetes. I could stand to lose more weight, I’m definitely carrying around an unhealthy surplus (just being real). I’ve been improving my strength training a bit at a time, recently, with my Traveling Partner’s encouragement, which is helpful.

“Healthy” and “thin” are not synonyms. “Heavy” and “healthy” are not antonyms. It’s more complicated than that, but in my own case, I’m heavier than is healthy for me, and certain “features” of my brain injury complicate my impulse control and self-awareness. The Ozempic controls my blood sugar, reduces my interest in food, and eating becomes notably less gratifying, and the Ozempic profoundly improves my impulse control, generally (a very helpful side effect). I’m fortunate I haven’t had to deal with unpleasant side effects like nausea or constipation (only very rarely and not for long).

… There’s nothing shameful or embarrassing about taking appropriate medication for medical conditions…

I’ve never felt embarrassed, ashamed, or awkward about taking Ozempic, although I was very reluctant to try it at all. I’m often puzzled by the weird criticism of strangers regarding people using GLP1’s for weight loss, as if it amounts to “cheating”. (And I had to deal with that face to face with myself, before I was willing to try it.) Life isn’t a proctored exam. We’re each having our own experience. One person may find managing their weight (or their blood sugar) quite easy. Someone else may find it quite difficult. We are individuals. Ozempic may cause terrible life threatening side effects for one person, and no side effects at all for another. Keeping it real, though? It’s not anyone else’s business in the first fucking place. Take it or don’t; the choice is between you and your doctor.

…As with using Ozempic, talking about that is also a personal choice (stay out of the comments section 😆 the Internet trolls may be hangry – or jealous)…

I sit with my thoughts awhile, at a favorite stopping point. The trail is still mine. I love these quiet moments. This trail is very popular with dog walkers, though, and on such a mild morning there will no doubt be dogs tearing around in the brush and tall grass (because in spite of prominent signage with rules about keeping dogs leashed, people do as they please). Rude. It is the same disregard for basic consideration and manners that make people think it’s okay to criticize someone for following their doctor’s advice about their medication.

… Sometimes it feels like the idiots are winning…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m in a good mood, on a pleasant morning. No reason to undermine that with cynicism or petty anger and disappointment with humanity, generally. 😆 Later, housekeeping, exercise, and some hang out time with my beloved. I smile to myself. Useful perspective. Why was I even thinking about any of that other crap on such a lovely morning? Oh, right. My weekly dose increases today (and for the foreseeable future). 😂 I’m facing it with some unnecessary trepidation. I shrug it off and remind myself to drink plenty of water.

See, that’s the thing, isn’t it? Nearly every challenge we face also has steps we can take to directly improve our experience, we just have to choose to take that step. “Do the verbs.” It is also necessary to be open to the possibility – and to allow myself awareness of the options available to me. Small steps. Choices.

I breathe the fresh summer air. It smells of mown clover drying in the sun, and summer flowers. I think about maybe going to a cafe that serves a particularly delicious Borgia mocha (a nice treat), then wonder if I can even be bothered? Maybe I’d actually rather head home and do laundry and clean my bathroom? How delightfully adult of me. 😆 I sit smiling, enjoying the moment. It’ll be time to begin again, soon enough.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, weight loss secrets, women, Words

Quiet Skies

August 14, 2026 //
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For now the sky overhead is quiet. Later, the annual air show will shatter the peace with a fun display of military might in the sky. Don’t misunderstand me; I enjoyed seeing the Blue Angels as a kid. These days it’s just very costly wasteful noise interrupting my ability to focus on whatever I’m trying to do.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I’m admittedly a bit of a buzzkill about air shows (noisy, wasteful), parades (traffic, crowds), fireworks displays (noisy, wasteful, crowded)… You may be getting the impression I dislike noise, crowds, and the chaos and expense of public celebrations, entirely. You would be correct; not my thing at all. I rarely even go to concerts to see artists I truly love. I don’t like the noise and the crowds. Hell, I don’t like it if the grocery store is busy enough to feel crowded. 😆

Most of my trauma has been at the hands of another person, directly. The result? I mostly don’t trust people with my safety, least of all my safety from direct harm by another human being! Viewed through that lens, it is probably not hard to understand why I am cautious about people and a bit averse to crowds. The noise sensitivity I live with (PTSD, head trauma) is its own thing, but we are interesting creatures built of systems, and it’s not easy to tease symptoms apart and assign them to this or that, independent of each other. That’s not really how we work.

I’ll endure the air show the way I generally endure such things: I’ll stay away from the event and associated traffic, and I’ll refrain from being a dick about my dislike of such things, and choose instead to just let folks have their fun. They aren’t hurting me, and the air show isn’t a personal attack on my peace. 😆 In fact, one of the best things I have gotten from practicing non-attachment is learning to embrace how very few things are ever “personal”. It’s a very impersonal universe, and it does not give a damn about one artist of middle-aged years living quietly between town and farm fields, I promise.

I set off down the trail at daybreak. I wasn’t sure this trail would be accessible today, with the air show going on. I had a plan B ready to go, if it weren’t. I’m grateful to be able to walk this familiar trail. It begins the morning well.

I reach my halfway point ahead of the sunrise. Looks like a cloudy day ahead. I yawn and stretch, and my muscles remind me that I’ve resumed strength training. It’s a healthy soreness, but still uncomfortable. I rub my aching shoulders and distract myself from the discomfort by scanning the underbrush slowly, looking for details I may have missed…or bunnies. 😂

The air is a little hazy, again, but the AQI is still in a safe range. The weather feels mild, and the cool of the morning hints at autumn. I stretch again, and look to the smooth gray sky overhead. The clock ticks on. It is a journey of miles and of moments. As with any practice, it’s about the verbs. I sigh as I get to my feet to begin. Again.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, women, Words

Don’t Settle for Slop

August 12, 2026 //
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It’s early and still dark when I reach the trailhead. I am reminded that my Traveling Partner has already reminded me (twice?) to replace my headlamp so I can walk safely in the dark. I take care of that while I wait for daybreak.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I set off down the trail at first light. I’m glad to be enjoying real activity in the physical world. The “quality of life” online continues to degrade as enshittification pours AI slop all over basically everything.  It’s super annoying. Worse, there are real signs in everyday life, and interactions with real people, that stupid may actually be taking over. I’m not exaggerating or being unkind, I’m observing a perceivable degradation in the quality of conversations, the reduced vocabulary, and the increasing apparent difficulties regular people seem to be having with the most ordinary shit. Looking things up in a library, or reading a page of text and actually understanding it – really simple, critically useful cognitive tools are becoming less well honed. It’s honestly a bit scary.

… These will be the people we hand the world to when current leaders “age out” of governance. We should probably all be quite terrified…

I sigh to myself as I walk. I’m grateful to be able to read. Grateful to be able to write and to have the opportunity to sit down and easily write a few hundred words without ever needing (or using) an LLM or relying on AI. I’m grateful to be able to comprehend what I read and to be able to interrogate the ideas of others, and to form my own opinions and original thoughts. I don’t want to lose these abilities. As with walking – I keep writing, and reading, and talking. (I could do better with the listening, for real, that’s an underdeveloped skill I work to improve every day.)

….Lacking a crystal ball, I don’t know where the world is headed, but it’s not looking good, and that is a massive disappointment…

Another work day ahead of me. I’m fine with it. My Traveling Partner has finished up the project he’s been working on in the shop for a customer. I’m incredibly impressed and proud of him; he’s made a lot of progress in a short time. (I’ll work from the library today, and give him a chance to enjoy a proper day off. I can be a bit of a distraction. 😆)

Today feels pretty good, subjectively. I breathe, exhale, and relax. I let go of my concern and frustration with the enshittification of American culture and the sad degradation of the once amazing Internet due to corporate greed and billionaire bullshit. I know to put down the connected device(s) and go outside. I smile at a bunny hopping timidly out of the underbrush alongside the trail.

“The world” drives a lot of my anxiety. War. Racism. Sexism. Misogyny. Rudeness and incivility. Hate. Greed. The breakdown of “the social contract”, generally. A lot of these sorts of things are only within my control to the extent that I manage my own behavior to avoid this toxic shit, myself. Don’t do it. Don’t encourage it. Don’t excuse it. Don’t stand around enduring it. That’s generally the best I can do, myself, and all the rest that is outside my control? Yeah, that feeds my anxiety. That’s the piece I have to manage with the greatest care. It’s not always easy (in fact, it’s mostly not easy at all). One thing that definitely helps, a lot? Log off and walk away from the screen. Pretty much any time I “put down the Internet and walk away”, my anxiety is reduced.

… I’m not telling you what to do, just making an observation about my own experience…

AI slop definitely makes my anxiety worse. AI voices put me on edge. AI writing is poorly done to the point of being a distraction that causes me considerable stress. AI videos are ugly and strangely unnatural, and in spite of improvements in quality, generally, I find them objectionable in principle; no one needs these garbage LLMs filling our feeds with slop that isn’t worth even one moment of precious, limited mortal lifetime. I’d rather listen to an awkward actual human being doing an uncomfortably amateur read on some new channel on a topic I don’t care about at all than waste one minute of my time on slop.

Not convinced? That’s okay; I’m not trying to persuade you, I’m having my own experience. If you “don’t see any harm” in AI, maybe try asking it. No kidding. Try “list three reasons using AI for [put your most common use here] is a bad idea”. It’ll tell you. 😂

I sigh to myself and look down the path. The sky takes on soft hues of pink and pale blue. There’s a new day beginning, full of wonder and promise. Choose your adventure. Choose wisely. It’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, Anxiety, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, thoughts on AI, women, Words

New Morning, New Day

August 11, 2026 //
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Well, here we are, another morning, another moment, another chance to begin again and to do better than we did yesterday. A little at a time, our actions and experiences, and the things we choose to practice, will change us. Choose wisely. 😁

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

Today feels better than yesterday, although neither experience of a lovely morning offers me real insight to the difference. This morning I feel calm, kind, and unbothered. Yesterday I was cross with myself and the world and didn’t really have any more reason for that than I have for feeling quite differently now. I say that as an observation that our subjective emotional experiences are sometimes not directly connected to some obvious cause – they simply are what they are in that moment.

…Sometimes what we do about how we feel is more important than the feeling itself…

I slept pretty well, and woke a little startled when my lights flashed on before slowly brightening. I woke seriously groggy and had to slow down and make a careful point of going down my morning checklist to avoid making some small mistake that might wake my Traveling Partner or mess with his morning when he wakes a bit later. I appreciate a good routine, settled, reliable, predictable. This one isn’t that, yet. It needs more practice.

The sunrise from the trailhead already hints at autumn. It comes later, and the colors are a bit different. I consider whether or not to get another camping trip in, maybe after Labor Day? (Less crowded, fewer kids.) I don’t know if I really want to, or if I’m toying with the idea instead of something else. Life’s menu is pretty big, and there is a lot I’d like to do or try or see.

… My mind wanders on…

This year is already half over. Seems strange that it has gone by so fast. Subjectively, in this moment, I feel as if I have “achieved nothing”, which would be a huge bummer if it were objectively true. Oh for sure, I haven’t cured a major disease, changed the trajectory of world events, or solved homelessness in my community, those achievements were never within my reach as an individual. Not my path.

I’ve been painting, working, and supporting my Traveling Partner’s return to working, too. I’ve walked a few miles (about 600 or so, I estimate). I’ve started and finished some projects. I’ve started and failed to finish a few projects, too. I enjoyed one celebratory evening out with my beloved that is still lingering in my memory fondly. I tried out drone flying as a hobby. I got an RC car and happily drive it (it suits me better than flight). I don’t know, none of that seems odd or particularly noteworthy, just snapshots from one human life. Still, isn’t it enough for most of us to live and love and hope to learn to do those things with some measure of skill, over time? Doesn’t that amount to an achievement on its own?

…I feel fortunate…

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m grateful for the job I’ve got that supports the life I share with my partner. I’m grateful to be able to say I was able to provide caregiving to my beloved that helped see him through a major injury and recovery, to see him working in his shop once again. (Now that’s an achievement!) I’m grateful for our little house in a small town situated between suburbs and farm fields. I’m grateful for this well-maintained trail available to me each morning and for the sunrise I am lucky enough to see. Maybe it is all quite ordinary, it’s the experience I live, and I feel fortunate for the highs, and I try to learn something from the lows. It’s a very human experience. It’s enough.

I smile and breathe the summer morning air deeply. It smells nicely of mown grass and meadow flowers. The air is clear and still. The temperature is mild. It’s a nice pause before I begin a new day – again.

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Categories Allegories, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, women, Words

Every Dawn Is a Beginning

August 9, 2026 //
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Pretty morning. Quiet. I’ve got a manicure appointment later, and maybe I’ll spend time in the studio working on a new piece. My approach to painting is slower these days, contemplative and unhurried, and inspired by thoughtful slow consideration before turning my attention to the easel and beginning the work. This is a profound change from large abstractions executed quickly from a passing emotion. I have three unfinished canvases from my acrylic work that may never be completed; the feeling has passed, and I no longer understand the work from the original perspective. I’ve lost those moments. In each case, this is a good thing, for me, subjectively.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

Another sunrise, another day, another moment to begin from.

I arrived at the trailhead in darkness. I waited long enough to make out the trail without a headlamp; I need to replace my old one, which finally gave up on me while I was camping last month. I can’t complain; it was a cheaply made headlamp I didn’t pay much for, and it lasted for a decade (more?) with just one change of batteries. I won’t be walking in darkness for awhile though, until I replace my headlamp.

Alone but not alone.

Shared experiences are strange. They don’t all happen simultaneously. As I start down the trail I see that someone has placed a pair of child-sized sunglasses on a rock. No doubt lost by some child. A bit of human experience left behind by some human being who shares the experience of walking this trail with me, though we have never met. We each have our own experience of this trail, our own recollection of it, and our own understanding afterward of what it meant. Same trail. Different moments. Shared but different experiences. I think about that as I walk.

I enjoyed a quiet pleasant evening with my Traveling Partner yesterday. We shared the experience of our life together from different rooms doing different things for most of the day. No harsh words or hard feelings, we were simply doing our own things. We both had difficult nights, and the fatigue (and steps taken to address it) kept us both wary of missteps that could cause drama. We were gentle and careful with each other. I hope he felt as loved as I did when the day ended.

“Human” is messy and difficult sometimes. It is worth it to give people room to fuck up, fail, make it right, and grow from the experience.

… I wonder what color to get my nails done this time..?

I sit at the river’s edge, on the bank well above a wee bit of something beach-like that shows signs of being favored by fishermen, thinking my thoughts and watching the water flow past, still and glossy on the surface, reflecting the trees of the far bank. There’s a bit of mist visible, as the sun rises.

Summer morning perspective on a moment.

Minutes later, sunlight illuminates the treetops, changing shadowy greens to bright green and gold. Time passes without a clock, like the river flowing past below me. I sigh to myself, ignoring the awareness of the sense of a ticking clock. I have a better relationship with time than I did in my twenties. I can mostly ignore that fucking clock and just enjoy the moment as it is. I smile to myself and watch as a single yellow leaf falls slowly from somewhere above.

…Time still passes, whether I watch or not…

I smile to myself a little wistfully, fragments of memories tap at my consciousness wanting my attention, but I’m not interested in swimming in those nostalgic waters this morning, choosing instead to leave the surface of my consciousness untouched, calm, instead.

A new dawn, a new day, a new moment; where does this path lead?

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Plenty of time for meditation. I’ve got the day ahead of me. I hope my beloved got the rest he needed and enjoyed a gentle night. I breathe the summer air deeply. I consider the day and the path ahead. “Choose wisely,” I remind myself.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, women, Words
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